


Desperation

by captain_americano



Series: Americano’s Shame Corner [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Clothed Sex, Colour System, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Jamie if you see this please stop kink shaming me, Kinda, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Omorashi, Pee, Piss, Piss kink, Smut, Srsly Jamie don’t judge, Undernegotiated Kink, Watersports, Wetting, dirty - Freeform, pee play, probs more like, use of colour system
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 07:52:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18846781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_americano/pseuds/captain_americano
Summary: “This — this is so much,” Peter huffed, not wanting to waste any time, but also struggling to decide if he wanted to do this. It was obvious Wade was more than willing, and if he didn’t think too hard on how absolutely mortifying it was, Peter could admit it was kinda hot.I can’t believe you guys dared me to write this lmao y’all are wild ha h a





	Desperation

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 15th Spideypool fic and my 50th all up. It was meant to be something special, instead its *gestures vaguely* 
> 
> I’ve had this written since the 9th of March and finally worked up the lady-balls to post it.
> 
> If you’re into this sort of thing, I R E A L L Y hope you like it. If you’re not into this sorta thing — wtf are you still doing here? You saw the tags!

Peter squeezed his eyes shut as the train jolted to a stop, trying to tune out the quiet chatter of the commuters, and the less-quiet chatter of his boyfriend sitting next to him. He’s got a bit of a situation — one that requires his full concentration. 

He and Wade were making their way back from the cinema; they had just watched an action flick that went for almost three agonising hours. They’d arrived at the cinema barely on time and had to race into the screening as the last of the trailers were playing, and Peter had missed his chance to go to the bathroom. 

On their way out of the cinema, Peter had noticed how long the line for the men’s room was, and decided after almost three hours he could wait out the twenty minute train ride back to their apartment — because no way in hell was he using the subway toilets. 

Even with only one stop left to their block, Peter was regretting his decision.

“You okay, baby boy?” Wade said quietly, his smooth voice sending a shiver up Peter’s spine.

“Fine,” he replied through clenched teeth, looking out the window at the endless black of the underground. 

“You’re squirming — why are you uncomfortable, Petey? Too rough on ya last night?” Wade teased, and Peter turned to face him so he could give him an incredible eye-roll.

“I gotta go, okay?” Peter hissed, and Wade’s face split into a Cheshire grin. “Shut up, asshole,” Peter groaned, even though Wade hadn’t said anything.

“Alright, Pete, we’re almost home,” Wade said soothingly, looping his arm around Peter’s shoulders and softly stroking his collarbone with his thumb. It was kinda comforting, but also hugely distracting, and Peter had to concentrate, damnit! 

Finally, the automated voice announced their stop, and they shuffled through the narrow aisle and onto the platform, Peter clutching Wade’s hand and squeezing tightly.

Peter grimaced and clenched every muscle in his body as they ascended the staircase to the street, and breathed a sigh of relief as their apartment complex came into view, nestled between an office building and an art gallery above a bodega.

Peter immediately headed for their building, but Wade tugged lightly on his hand, jerking his head to indicate the bodega.

“Just wanna pick up some snacks for tonight, Pete,” Wade said innocently, pulling Peter in the direction of the store.

“Wade,” Peter said flatly, and his asshole boyfriend just shook his head with a smile.

“Come on, Petey, it’ll only take a minute,” he grinned, dragging an extremely reluctant Peter into the cluttered shop. Peter took a deep, grounding breath, and immediately regretted it as his stomach expanded, jostling his bladder. 

Wade led Peter through the small aisles, picking up Oreos, Doritos, and Pop-Tarts, before making his way to the refrigerated section, pondering the bottles of soda.

“Hm,” he said, slowly browsing the selection.

“Wade,” Peter said warningly, shifting from side-to-side, trying to find a comfortably stance that put the least amount of pressure on his bladder.

“I don’t know if I want Coke or Pepsi,” Wade said, ignoring Peter completely. “Maybe I want raspberry Fanta? Ooh — or what about that weird drink from New Zealand? I wonder if they have that? Petey, can you see any L&P?”

“Wade, I swear to god,” Peter huffed, and Wade squeezed his hand briefly, before letting go to open the fridge and grab a bottle of Mountain Dew Voltage, before _finally_ heading to the register. 

“Thirteen dollars, sixty-three cents,” Mr. Singh, the grumpy owner, said as he rang them up.

“Oh, sure,” Wade said, pulling a twenty out of his wallet, “I got the sixty-three cents here somewhere, hang on —”

Peter actually groaned out loud as Wade started searching through his pockets, looking for the change. Even Mr. Singh rolled his eyes.

After a full three minutes of pulling various coins out of his pockets and painstakingly counting them, Wade handed over the sixty-three cents, and Mr. Singh gave him the change, shoving the bag at him and gesturing for them to leave. “‘Night Mr. Singh! Say hello to the Mrs. for me!” Wade called as Peter steered him out of the shop.

Peter took the keys out of his pockets on the tortuous climb up the three flights of stairs to their apartment, his hands shaking violently as he tried to open the door. He couldn’t slide they key into place and fumbled, dropping the set to the floor.

“Here, I got it,” Wade said softly, handing Peter the bag and crouching to pick up the keys. He quickly opened the door and Peter shot into the apartment, beelining for the kitchen to drop the snacks on the counter before heading to the bathroom. On his way out of the kitchen, Wade gently caught his hips, shifting so he was standing behind Peter. 

“Wade, I gotta go,” Peter snapped, beyond impatient with his boyfriend.  

“You look so good, all desperate,” Wade whispered, sliding one hand underneath Peter’s shirt, pressing lightly on his stomach.

“Quit it Wade, I’m not kidding,” Peter said, squirming away from Wade’s touch and right back into his chest.

“Neither am I, baby boy,” Wade growled, latching his teeth on Peter’s neck, and Peter groaned, his head rolling back to rest on Wade’s shoulder as he breathed shallowly.

“Let — let me go, Wade,” he whined, squeezing his eyes closed as Wade pressed down again, and he felt his cheeks flame in anger. Definitely anger. Not arousal. For sure.

“You can go whenever you want, Petey,” Wade said in a dangerously low voice, and Peter shuddered.

They’d never done this before — never done anything like it, never even _talked_ about this. Peter’s head was fuzzy and his bladder was full to the point of near pain, and he just _didn’t know_ what Wade was doing.

“Colour?” Wade asked, pressing a soft kiss to Peter’s sweaty temple.

“Y-yellow,” Peter bit out, and Wade immediately dropped his hand and stepped away.

“Come on, baby,” he said, taking Peter’s hand and leading him to the bathroom. He stood Peter in front of the sink so that he was looking at himself in the mirror — his cheeks flushed and a wild, bright look in his brown eyes. Wade stood behind him with that same look, gently lifting Peter’s shirt over his head and unbuckling his jeans.

“Wade — I-I don’t know,” he said uncertainly.

“Want me to go, Peter?” Wade asked softly, pushing Peter’s jeans down and encouraging him to kick his shoes off and step out of the pants. “I can leave you alone in here, if that’s what you want.” 

“This — this is so much,” Peter huffed, not wanting to waste any time, but also struggling to decide if he wanted to do this. It was obvious Wade was more than willing, and if he didn’t think too hard on how absolutely mortifying it was, Peter could admit it was kinda hot. 

“Colour?” Wade asked again, hooking his chin over Peter’s shoulder and raising a challenging eyebrow at him in the mirror. Peter blinked once and rolled his bottom lip in his teeth. 

“Green,” he finally said, looking Wade straight in the eye, and hooking his thumbs in his red boxers. 

“Leave them on,” Wade growled, swatting his hands away, and pulling his hips back so Peter’s ass was flush against his half-hard dick. 

“Wade,” Peter groaned, his eyes following the hectic blush that went from his cheeks, all the way down his chest. Wade brought his hand up to press low on Peter’s abdomen, and Peter jolted forward, his hands tightly clutching at the edge of the sink.

“Good boy, Peter, look so good all flushed and desperate,” Wade whispered, liking a stripe up his neck, massaging Peter’s abdomen as he rolled his hips up into Peter’s ass. “Loved seeing you squirming and aching to lose control. Gonna be a good boy and let go? Show me how you get all wet for me?” 

“Ngh,” Peter whined, trying to push aside his embarrassment and relax. A faint trickle of piss dribbled out of his dick, immediately staining his boxers a dark maroon, and Wade hummed in his ear.

“Good boy, Petey, need to go so bad, let it all go sweetheart, go ahead and piss your pants like a good little boy,” Wade commanded, pressing firmly on his stomach, and Peter cried as the floodgates opened, warm urine flowing steadily out of him, the loud hiss filling the silent bathroom. The front of his boxers were instantly soaked and clinging to his skin, and he watched the mirror in a sort of morbid curiosity as the faintly yellow liquid spilled down his thighs and legs, before pooling on the tiled floor around his bare feet, and Wade’s boots.

After almost fifteen seconds he had to look away, turning his head and burying his face in Wade’s neck as embarrassment took over, feeling his eyes sting in mortification as Wade continued whispering meaningless praise and comfort that Peter couldn’t even really hear. 

Finally, after almost a minute, the flow trickled away into nothing, and Wade was palming at his dick through his wet boxers.

“So beautiful Peter, you did so well,” he praised, kissing Peter’s cheek and gently tipping his face forward with his clean hand so he was looking in the mirror. “Look at you, getting hard in your dirty underwear,” Wade said, and to Peter’s chagrin, he was indeed getting hard.

He felt dirty and gross, but the way Wade was looking at him in the mirror with complete lust, his soft words of adoration, and the intoxicating feeling of _wrong_ were all heady factors, and he felt himself shallowly thrusting into Wade’s hand.

“Look so good all relaxed and soft, covered in your own piss, gods you look so fuckin’ hot all the time Peter, but look atcha, so gorgeous,” Wade said, slipping his hand below the damp waistband of Peter’s boxers and gripping his dick, thumbing the slit and jerking him off.

“Wade,” Peter gasped, his pants starting to cool in the chilly bathroom. His toes curled on the wet tiles as Wade picked up the pace and grazed his teeth along Peter’s jaw.

“Love the feel of your dick all wet with your piss, so smooth and warm, fuck, Peter,” Wade groaned, thrusting his hips forward, his erection hard and hot through his jeans. Peter could feel the dampness spreading even back to his ass, and absently wondered if Wade could feel it too.

“Fuck, Wade, g-gonna come,” Peter whined, rolling his hips up into Wade’s hand and spilling into his soiled boxers with a cut off groan.

“Good boy, stand still for me, hold it just like that,” Wade said, his hand loosely jerking Peter through his orgasm as he ground his hips into Peter’s ass once, twice more, before he sighed deeply, resting his forehead on Peter’s shoulder and gently removing his hand from his wet boxers.

“Holy shit,” Peter said, his whole body tingling with one of the dirtiest orgasms he’d ever had.

“Was that okay?” Wade asked, lifting his head to give Peter a concerned look in the mirror.

“Fuck, that was — yeah,” Peter confirmed, turning around to kiss Wade, pressing his hips gently into his boyfriend’s.

“Wanna go for round two? ‘Cause I kinda gotta piss now, too,” Wade chuckled hesitantly, and Peter beamed.

**Author's Note:**

> Guys. There is not enough watersports fic in this pairing. Or any pairing.
> 
> Come @ me @cptnamericano. I have one (1) follower whom I love dearly, but would like more people to talk to <3


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